


Obliterations.

by phantomhives



Category: Starfighter (Comic)
Genre: M/M, cain/deimos - Freeform, starfighter - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 20:30:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4033543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomhives/pseuds/phantomhives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at how Cain and Deimos became the men they are today. A story of love, loss, and eternal sadness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Obliterations.

When I first met the man who would later be known as ‘Cain’, we were just kids. The Colonies were brutal places, you should be aware, and it was every man for himself. But not for him. Looking at him now, I still see the same traits he had the day he saved me — well, I say ‘saved’, but all he really did was run his mouth, like he always does. And, though I never thanked him for it at the time, he did’t seem to mind all that much; I think my smile was a ‘thank you’ enough. 

 

It was a cold, damp day. The Colonies have schools, like all other places, but they’re not as well taught as the ones on Earth. We don’t have enough money for well-experienced teachers, so most of the children in the colonies go untaught, or they are taught very little, with the resources we have. I suppose that’s why so many of us become fighters. Anyway, I was walking through the halls, alone (even then, I wasn’t too fond of human contact, or contact of any kind), when suddenly I was overpowered by Vitaly, a boy slightly older than myself. His gang were held back only by his own admission, they were never to engage the intended target; he only kept the around to make himself look tough, really, because without them he’d have been alone, and when alone you look less intimidating. 

 

“Well, look who we have here,” he sneered. A typical starting line, I know, but he was never very good with words, he only knew how to fight by watching so many Earth shows from years ago. I sighed, saying nothing in my own defence, which only lead to my shoulders being slammed back into the glass panelling. It hurt, I frowned, and he laughed. He then looked behind himself with a fierce expression, and the others began to laugh, too. I knew this routine by heart, now, however, and I knew what was going to happen next. “You always have to pick the quietest hallways, don’t you? Otlichno — we should start thanking you, right boys?” and they nodded in answer, still not permitted to speak. I did always pick the quietest hallways, the louder, more crowded ones always filled with laughter whenever I was cornered by Vitaly, though he could never do much with so many eyes watching. Here, I couldn’t be laughed at by other students, but he could do much, much worse without supervision. 

 

Speaking of which, he began raising his fist, knuckles white — I always knew how painful his punches were going to be just by how white his knuckles were. This time, they where a ghostly fog kind of colour; he wasn’t going to hit me very hard and I was able to relax some,  though it would still be painful to some degree, and I closed my eyes in acceptance. The force of his other hand pushing my shoulder into the panelling was the most uncomfortable feeling, and that made it all so much worse. With one final laugh, he was ready to strike, huffing before the force left my shoulder and his right arm came forward and — you guessed it — hit me just under my left eye. The pain I was used to, and I was more than ready for his next attack, when suddenly our daily routine came to an unexpected (but not rejected) end. 

 

“Oi,” a voice I’d never heard before chimed in from somewhere down the hall, and the force of another impending fist disappeared as a new tension entered. “What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?” Asked the stranger as he sauntered. I eyed him whilst I could; curiosity enveloped me. He was taller than myself, only slightly taller than Vitaly, and just as intimidating as his voice had sounded. He wore a scowl, brows raised provocatively — I liked that about him, even then. When he didn’t receive an answer from Vitaly, he rolled his eyes and stepped forward, shielding me with his one hand gently pushing me behind him. I was glad, then, that I wasn’t the only one who knew the extent of Vitaly’s strength. “I said, what the _fuck_ do you think _you’re_ doing?” He asked again, this time voice raised slightly in annoyance and irritation.  
“Come on. Let us have our fun.” Alexei spoke from behind his leader, but soon quietened when he received an icy glare.  
“Yeah, Sacha. Don’t be a buzzkill.” Sacha. That was his name. I liked it. It suited him, even though I didn’t know much about him other than the fact he’d just helped me, but I wanted to know more about him, I wanted to be his friend, if he’d let me close enough.  
“Fuck off, Alexei. What, Vitaly, got a crush on him or something? Hitting him ain’t going to show your affection for him, you know.” He was good at talking, I knew that much. Being more than a head smaller than him, I was able to peek from behind his arm just enough to see Vitaly angrily charging for him, fist raised; I thought Sacha’s comment must’ve been a low blow to his pride, though Sacha himself didn’t seem to phased, and simply took a step forward, leaving me defenceless. 

 

When Vitaly went to swing for him, Sacha merely took hold of his wrist, yanked it behind his back, and kicked him — right in the stomach. Vitaly fell to the floor, though quickly scrambled to his feet and tried again, only to end up, this time, on face pushed into the glass panelling and his nose dripping with fresh blood. I’d have laughed, if I wasn’t nearly terrified of being manhandled by his troops. Though Sacha was having fun for the both of us, laughing as Vitaly staggered back into a steady retreat, running in cowardice. I felt rather scared, then. I knew that because of that little stunt, he’d hit me harder, and with more anger next time. But, that was ‘next time’. I didn’t need to worry about that, then. 

 

“Yeah, run away!” Sacha shouted, before quietly adding in a “fucking pricks,” and retiring from his stance. I simply stared at him, too highly built on good spirits to say anything to him. He must’ve taken my silence for something awful, such as ungratefulness, because he turned to me. “You’re welcome,” he said, taking a step towards me; I remained where I was, having no need to fear him. “You’re not going to.. I don’t know, thank me?” Then his brows raised, and he folded his arms across his chest. To that I simply smiled, head tilted, and crossed my own arms. He smiled back, funnily enough, and even laughed to himself. “Got a name, or do I have to make one up for you?” He thought he was funny; I did too.   
“Aleks.” I finally said, quiet though loud enough for him to make out my words.  
“Aleks. Nice. Simple. Easy to remember.” His lips pursed in thought for a moment, before he rocked back onto his heels, as if suddenly stuck with what to say. I took this as his way of saying ‘I don’t usually make conversation with my lips, but rather with my hands’, but that was okay.  
“Thanks.”  
“You should stick with me from now on, that way, they won’t bother you anymore. And if they even dare to, I’ll kick the shit out of them.”  
“Why would you do that… for me? You don’t even know me.” I questioned him, here. I didn’t know what I was getting into, but all I knew was that I wanted it more than anything. Something about him drew me closer, and I had a feeling it would keep me ensnared for a very long time.  
“I guess I’m just nice, like that.” He laughed, then proceeded to walk down the hallway, not waiting for me — but I’d guessed that I wasn’t supposed to follow him. “If you take my offer, you know where I’ll be.”  
  
And surely enough, I did.

 


End file.
